The journey to Prague was quiet, too quiet.
Slade sat in the back of the transport van, his weapon across his knees, his eyes fixed on the darkness beyond the window. The team was with him—Kane, Sloane, Ember, and a dozen operatives from the shield network. They moved through the narrow streets of the old town, their vehicles hidden in the shadows.
Lyric's voice came through the earpiece. "I'm reading multiple heat signatures in the museum. At least thirty. They're expecting company."
Slade's jaw tightened. "They know we're coming."
"Probably. But they don't know when or how."
"Then we don't give them time to prepare."
---
The approach was swift and brutal.
Slade led the team through the service entrance, their movements silent, their weapons ready. The museum's interior was a maze
